Sol 101 Episode 2
"Why would I keep you around with me, you... shitty gun shooter?" Sol thought, his brain focused on making the smuggest smile that he could form instead of a witty comeback. "You can't even shoot guns not shit, and that's your only quality. Only good one, at least." The gunslinger pondered about that, drawing his pistol once more and resting it against the butt of his chin, as if he was like Auguste Rodin's The Thinker. "Well," he started, squinting as he began to talk, for whatever reason. It begins to don at you that this man is not intelligent at all but instead rather dramatic instead. It creates the same effect, anyways. "I could getcha in to lots of adult stuff. R-rated films. Strip clubs. Stuff like that." Sol had not even turned around at this point. His face still kept on focusing on that smug smile, of course, even though almost no one in the universe could see it, and those that did - like you - did not care. "Laika can do that too, and he shoots straight," Sol taunted. "Who the hell's Laika?" "Anyways, buddy, you're not going with me. Not a chance. Old guys like you would totally cramp on my style. I mean, not that you would steal my ladies. You'd just scare them away. Now, instead of the ladies, what you would steal? You'd totally fucking steal my nifty ass wristwatch MacGuffin thing-" Sol flaunted, and the Omnitrix did not even bother to correct him at this time, as clearly the not a wristwatch concept would never stick -"in my sleep. Like, you'd just chop my whole arm off or some shit, you weirdo. That kinda deal. Far warning, you wouldn't want to do that. I totally use that hand for jacking off. If you stole my hand you'd just give yourself dick germs or something. Final reason? You've already spilled all of the exposition I need from you. My story can totally go on without you now." "Well, then, kiddo..." the gunslinger spoke, before Sol felt a cold metal circle press up against the back of his head. He felt the metal move around, as if it was a stethoscope, except instead of searching for a heartbeat, it was searching for a brainstem. "How 'bout I just kill you now and get it over with?" Sol did not speak. No one thought possible, but Sol was entirely scared by the man's capabilities. The whole situation hadn't really sunken into his brain until that very moment. Perhaps, the next time he would see a creepy old man who likes to challenge teenaged boys to whipping their pistols out, he would run away as fast as possible (while having the Omnitrix dial Chris Hansen, of course) instead of humoring them. "Not a single thing can go wrong here..." If the gunslinger knew that the wood he'd just knocked on was more akin to a teetering redwood than a simple sapling, he probably would have shut his mouth then and there. But no. He had been taunted all day long by this insolent little boy. Now, he was going to make an example out of him, in front of... No one, actually, but fuck it, that didn't matter to the gunslinger, now, did it? He just wanted his damn revenge, and he was going to take his fucking time getting that motherfucker ready. There's probably an idiom about cooking related to this, but you aren't aware of it. "Gun's reloaded." As he spoke, Sol slowly began to move his hands up to activate the Omnitrix. However, when he did, he felt a cold, rough hand around his wrist. "Your hand's restrained. No more MacGuffin fun for you," he chuckled, spitting onto the ground. A fleck of spit splashed astray, dampening Sol's pant leg, but he was definitely in no situation where he could complain about this man's habits. more shit laika